Thursday, August 16, 2012

haibun || Sheila E. Murphy

In profusion, clover spheres. Beside the waft, we stand where crops collect, as if a family celebration equalled earth. Pronunciation makes us close, our dizzying refrains omit thought energy where it was traced. Conjunctions at each juncture. Hinges not defunct. An atmosphere of how we work and where we overcome a passage. Once she walks, she strays. This path, the same as gathering the steps she's walked. We institute the pavement to account for the inevitable equation. Walked the same, to walk. A conversation has to do. Growth situates itself, ourselves, the swollen landscape. Things will turn, and things will work themselves out of a gift economy. Distinguish weed from an intended growth. To pay for versus to observe. Which is to celebrate. A bitterness defines the sweet. The names drift where we know. Accumulation versus discard versus strained discussion.

Emoticons to be, each sweet referendum, as if only

Sheila E. Murphy

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